


Rebirth - The Sorcerer's Stone

by NyeLung



Series: Rebirth [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Obi-Wan is Hermione kind of, Rebirth, the Force and magic aren't so different
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyeLung/pseuds/NyeLung
Summary: Hermione Granger had always been just a little bit different, a little bit … other. No one knew how different she was until she got to go to Hogwarts and started remembering things. Things about herself, about a mission and a past life where she had failed in saving and protecting the Chosen One.





	1. Prologue

# The Sorcerer's Stone

## Prologue

Jean had always wondered why Hermione was so quiet. Her sister's children were anything but. They threw a racket every other day. Hermione on the other end could sit for hours on end, listening to something no one else heard. Jean tried not to worry too much, when Hermione seemed to know more than she should and play with her toys like she couldn't really believe she had them. Sometimes she would dodge falling objects, that she impossibly could have seen.

Hugo knew that Hermione ate everything she was offered, never complaining about vegetables or anything that wasn't normal. He once had a very interesting afternoon trying to teach his daughter that things crawling in the garden weren't food. Hermione just … listened as though she understood and went to find a new occupation.

Jean knew that Hermione hated doing nothing. Even if she was ordered to sit at the table she would paint strange symbols with her fingers or when she was left alone in the living room she would try to solve puzzles and riddles. Hermione loved those and often came up with unorthodox solutions that only made sense after thinking about them.

It was Hugo who came into Hermione's bedroom at night when she couldn't sleep because of nightmares she barely remembered. She cried when one of her nightmares kept her awake for hours on end and it was Hugo's job to comfort her. When he asked her, what she dreamt, she never really knew an answer. Loneliness, she said sometimes, darkness and loneliness as though everyone she loved was dead.  
Afterwards they would watch the stars from her window and she would ask all kinds of questions about the people living there. She seemed disappointed and irritated, when told there probably wasn't anyone else in the galaxy. Hermione loved the stars anyway and tried to get to know everything about them. 

Jean always bought Hermione new books. Sometimes she wondered. Hermione read with the passion of a girl that loved books, needed them, the words, the knowledge, but then … sometimes she read like it was a mission, like she had to be prepared for everything life might throw at her. But whatever she read, she always circled back to her first subject and love – stars. Later, there came books about magic and knights, adventurers and lots and lots of books about animals and the world. When one shelf was full, they'd have to buy a new one.

So, yes, Jean and Hugo Granger had been surprised when receiving the letter, but it was also reassuring to know why their daughter was so different. It explained so much and yet so little, because the world their daughter would belong to wasn't theirs and so they couldn't know that their daughter was strange and different even for magical standards.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow Hermione always knew that she was a witch. It all became much weirder when she got her wand.

## Chapter 1

Somehow she'd always known, always felt it, but it only became real, when she touched her letter from Hogwarts and read it. She knew that she had to go there, because it was right and real and important, so very important. She couldn't say why, she never could, but there was a part of her that whispered to her, told her to go. It was the same part that warned her about dangerous people near the school or that someone was throwing a ball at her while reading. It was the same part that … made things happen.

Hermione had never told her parents that she levitated a rock once. It had been in the way and she wanted it gone. Mum had noticed anyway because the rock – a few feet high boulder – now stood a few feet to the side. She never told them about her dodging balls or food thrown her way in the school yard because she just knew where and when it was coming towards her. Maybe that had been magic.

She tried not to bounce with excitement when thinking about all the possibilities awaiting her. Nature was a wonderful subject to study, but magic … she could study magic and that was awesome.  
There was just one problem left. “Where do I buy all these?” She held up the list of things to buy. Parchment, ink and quills might be found in some specialized store but where was she supposed to find a wand or the listed uniforms?

The door bell rang in this exact moment. Mum moved to open it and Hermione did her best not to speak up. She felt something there. She'd never actually felt anyone with this part of her that was not normal. This was new and disconcerting. Hermione tried not to be too anxious. Who would believe her anyway? Magic was something different from this ESP-stuff they promoted in the US, right?

A woman came in, regal appearance and very not-normal. She wore a pointed hat and robes in some kind of dark green. For Hermione she looked exactly like a witch although she was missing a mad cackle and a wart on her nose.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”, asked Mum.

The witch had a thin smile when she answered. “Yes, I'd love to.” The wrinkles in her face deepened and there was a friendly shimmer in her eyes. Hermione liked her. The witch reminded her of someone old and wise and kind. “You must be Miss Hermione Granger then?”, the witch suddenly turned towards her. “I am Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts and I've come to visit to answer your questions and help you with buying all the required utensils.”

This time Hermione smiled as an answer.

 

Diagon Alley lay behind a pub which made her mother curious and her father laugh. Hermione didn't care about that. Her eyes lay on the street and the little shops and all the things she could find there. It was nearly too much to take in at first but she adjusted fast. It was a lot but it was manageable.

The shops sold anything, literally. Frog eyes, owls claws and parts of creatures Hermione's never heard of before. She had to fix that. First they had to got to the bank, Gringotts, because their money, muggle money, wouldn't be accepted here. For a moment Hermione wondered about the strange system of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. Then she disregarded the thought and came up with a few methods for fast-switching between currencies.

Hermione found herself staring at the goblins because they were just so different. There was also something tugging in her memories, trying to come forward as though she had seen people like this before. Those long pointed ears especially. For a short moment she wondered why they weren't green before she forgot that thought.

McGonagall explained a lot and helped Hermione with picking out the right tin cauldron and robes. Madam Malkins seemed like a nice person but Hermione wasn't sure what fabrics she was talking about and what she was able to afford. Dragon leather sounded awfully expensive though practical. She walked out with normal school uniforms for Hogwarts. She eyed the skirts with disdain and swore to herself to find out if trousers were allowed for girls too. She hated skirts.

“Now there are only two things left. The books, which I presume, you will be able to buy for yourself.” McGonagall took out a strange clock. “I have to be somewhere else soon, so I will show you where you can buy your wand and then I will have to leave you. Will you be able to find your way out?”

“Yes, thank you for your guidance.” Mum nodded and took McGonagall's hand.

“Oh, I nearly forgot. Included in the letter was a ticket for the Hogwarts Express that leaves from platform nine three quarters. You can reach it by walking through a wall. Be there on time.”

“Walking through a wall?”, Hermione asked incredulity dripping from every syllable.

“It is charmed, so don't worry, Miss Granger. It will appear completely solid but when testing it with your hand you will find it is not. Of course, the wall is in between platforms nine and ten.”

 

McGonagall had left them exactly when they reached Ollivanders' wand shop. Carefully Hermione walked in while her parents looked at the menu of an ice cream parlour.  
The air was dusty and rich from decades of history. It smelled of wood and other things that might be connected to wandmaking. She could make out some kind of polish in all those smells but that was about it.

“Come in, come in”, a voice from somewhere deep in the shop said.

Warily, Hermione took two steps forward and nearly doubled back because a man with a mop of white hair and unnaturally widened eyes whirled from somewhere between the shelves right towards her and stopped a nose's length before her face.

“My, my, if it isn't a new witch. First year at Hogwarts? Muggleborn?”

Muggleborn, Hermione had learned already, meant that her parents were muggles, non-magical. She nodded cautiously. “I'm Hermione Granger.”

“This is how it will go”, the wand maker announced without answering to her. “I will give you a wand to try. You will try it, just swish it or something like that and then we will see.”

Hermione nodded again, not trusting her voice. Ollivander seemed like a nice man if a bit mad. Just like what she thought a wizard would be like.

“Here, this one. Oak and phoenix feather. Nine inches, very strong, unbending.”  
A casing was held in front of her and carefully Hermione reached out for the wand to try it out. It seemed so delicate in her hands as though she should have something different there, something heavier.

The little flick with the wand did not destroy the shop though it was a close call.

“No, no”, the wand was taken from her. “Not balanced at all. Something more gentle. This. Unicorn hair and beech. Eleven inches.”

Nothing happened.

“Hm, no, no, no. Not that calm then. Oh, I know.” The wand maker entered the depths of his shop and returned a while after with a dusted casing. “Ten and three quarter inches. Vine with dragon heartstring. Very powerful, very codependent.”

Hermione flicked the wand again and felt it. Oh, she felt. Not just the wand, so much more.

_The Force_ , something whispered.

“Wonderful. How marvellous. I haven't sold a vine wand in years. They belong to those with hidden depths seeking a bigger purpose.”

“But what purpose, when everything is lost?”, slipped out of her mouth before she could regain her inner balance. Everything was lost. They were dead. All of them. If she could only remember properly and not only this vague sense of dread and terror and darkness.

“Nothing is ever lost, Miss Granger. You will learn that soon enough.” His wide eyes suddenly held a warm and wise shimmer. “There is always hope when there is someone to fight for it. Just wait and you will understand.” He gave her a warm smile. “That's seven Galleons for the wand.”

Hermione searched for seven of the golden coins, still with her mind thoroughly trapped in all these strange feelings and thoughts that she has no explanation for. How could she? She was just eleven and never experienced such horror, such guilt … such hope. Something was wrong.

Her body and mind chose this moment to shut down and protect her.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long for such a short chapter. Had a lot going on.

## Chapter 2

Hermione still had trouble remembering. She knew there was more than the memories she knew of. She remembered what she had felt when touching her wand for the first time. The strange emotions that weren't her own and yet were.

In her memories there was a sense of dread she couldn't comprehend. A home, that had been turned into a graveyard and voices crying out for help, for rescue and then dying one by one until no one was left and all she was met with was silence and more silence until her quiet sobs filled it. She remembered fighting, lots and lots of fighting until she grew so tired she couldn't fight any longer and still had to push herself onto the battlefield again and again. There had been joy, but it had become clouded by layers upon layers of pain and grief.

It had been only a few days and yet she felt as though she had aged decades. Hermione knew that her parents were worried when they found her again staring into nothingness because she tried to work through all these strange things. Who could help her? Who could possibly understand?

The most curious change though was that she could look in the mirror and be surprised by her own face. Long, bushy hair, light freckles and she was young, so young. And she was a she. Sometimes, when she really listened to her own thoughts, she knew that she was expecting a man.

She didn't cut her hair like one part of her wanted to. Maybe, if these strange feelings stayed, she would. Until then she would have to live as a witch and look the part. Hermione had the bad feeling that she would have difficulties in school. Again. She just never really fit in.

There were some things she would leave behind when she would attend Hogwarts and Hermione didn't know how to feel about that. It only added to her confusion and insecurity at the moment. She hoped there would be some kind of sports. Although she loved her books she always had liked her karate lessons and it would be hard to go without. Since she bought her wand Hermione had an idea why she always had been so fond of fighting. Well, not that she sought any opportunity to pick a fight but it was calming to stand in the dojo and go through the familiar movements. Something whispered that she'd better up her training regimen because she would need it soon.

What she needed even more though was knowledge. She had no idea what she would be facing except for those few questions that professor McGonagall had answered. There were still a lot more. Maybe she should start reading and make a list of questions that had been left unanswered.

With a contemplative look she faced the staple of school books and others her parents had bought while she passed out at the wand shop. Where to begin? She stroked her chin expecting the familiar scratch of a beard and was thoroughly startled to find herself bare.

Hermione sighed. This would take some time getting used to. She should read. Maybe it wasn't uncommon for wizards and witches?

She doubted it.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it took me so long but there was a lot of crafting to be done for conventions and then my Harry Potter-phase had vanished and I only now got back to it. Anyway, sorry if the dialogue seems off. I only got the books in German and translate it as I go.

### Chapter 3

She was all but bouncing with excitement on September first. That was what little kids did and she felt so much older already. Her parents were alarmed by this but so far they hadn't questioned her. Hermione wouldn't have had answers for them anyway.

The Hogwarts-Express waited for them on track 9 ¾ just as Professor McGonagall had said. It was a big, classy, red train and in Hermione's eyes it was magnificent. It whistled while building up steam before departure. Hermione sped up her steps. They had been stuck in traffic and now they were close to being late so Hermione hastily wrapped her arms around her parents, wished them a safe journey home and promised to write every Sunday. It felt strange to have someone at home to regularly write to. Reports she could do. Letters to her parents? It felt... odd.

Hermione lifted her heavy suitcase onto the coach and went in search of a department where she could sit and read and change into her new robes. The lengths of fabric felt familiar in a way that dresses never had. She just hoped that she could change the skirt against trousers.

It took her a while to decide for a book to read. She could have picked one of her school books again. Or _Hogwarts, A History_. Instead she decided for the Arthurian legends. Tales of Chosen Ones and their tragic ending had always fascinated her and now that she thought more about it, she was pretty sure that it had something to do with those second memories she couldn't fully grasp.

Eventually, she put the book aside with a frustrated sigh. She checked her watch. Several hours have gone by and she hadn't noticed. At least that was still familiar. She could always get lost in books.

Then the door to her department was opened and a boy stuck his head in. “Have you seen Trevor?”

“Trevor?”, Hermione echoed the name.

“My toad. He's my pet.” The boy flushed red. “I'm Neville Longbottom.”

“Hermione Granger.” She stood up and made a little bow when introducing herself. When she looked up to Neville again, he had stretched his hand out to shake hers. Now it was her turn to blush. She didn't know why she had wanted to bow. Possibly another of these strange feelings in her head. “I can help you find Trevor.”

It was almost painful how relieved Neville looked when she said she would help him. Then he burst into tears and Hermione found herself completely overwhelmed with comforting him.

 

They scoured the train from the front to the last coach but didn't find the toad. Instead there was one meeting with a blonde kid that made Hermione uncomfortable and stirred something in her second memories. She didn't pay it any mind.

Well, next department, she thought to herself. She breathed in deeply just like all the other times and took in the two boys sitting there. “Did any of you see a toad? Neville has lost his.”

The boy with the red hair – he looked similar to some of the others she had seen on the train – looked at her with a hint of exasperation. “We've already told him that we haven't seen it.” That was when she noticed that he held a wand in his hand.

“Oh, you're trying to do magic? Let's see.” She had seen what she could do but she was excited how others did the movements with a wand.

The boy looked taken aback and coughed nervously. “Erm … okay. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”

He swished his wand but nothing happened. Hermione furrowed her brows. That didn't sound like all the other spells she had seen in her books. “Are you sure that's a real spell? I've already tried a few and they worked every time. Of course, I've already memorized all our books by heart. I hope that's enough.” Hermione couldn't say why but the more she listened to that strange feeling in her head the more she knew that this meeting was important. “You know, no one in my family is magic and could tell me what I'd need for Hogwarts. I've heard it's the best school out there. I'm Hermione Granger by the way. Who are you?”

The looks told her enough. She had talked too much again. Somewhere, she knew, she could be diplomatic but it eluded her like so many other things and it was frustrating to say the least.

“I'm Ron Weasley”, the red-haired boy answered.

“Harry Potter”, the other said.

When he said his name, something in Hermione … twisted. He was important, she felt. Chosen. “Oh really?” She remembered now. How could she not? “I've read all about you. You're featured in some books.” Hermione knew that she would have said even more had she not picked up before already that her bad habits were taking over again. She could talk more slowly. She could to it. She shouldn't frighten him. She had to take care of the Chosen One. She knew. And it was frightening and soothing at the same time to know with such certainty what she had to do.

“Wow”, said Harry and he seemed confused. Didn't he know about himself?

“Wait, you didn't know? I would have tried to find out everything about me.” She had tried to find out everything about herself and her strange condition and was none the wiser. At least she now knew a lot about everything else in the wizarding world. “Do you know which house you will be sorted into? I've heard a lot about Gryffindor, actually I heard the best stuff about Gryffindor and Dumbledore was there but I think Ravenclaw would be nice, too.” She bit on her lip. Too fast again. Too much. “We should continue the search for Neville's toad. And I think you should change. We're nearly there.”

She left the coach with Neville. Something was seriously wrong with her but she would be damned before she let a bunch of children know about that. She was a Master for Force's sake. Whatever a Master or the Force was. She huffed a breath and continued the search.

 

At least they did find the toad before they reached Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. The more time Hermione spends in a magic environment, the more livid her old memories will become. Uuuh, this is gonna be so much fun.


End file.
